


With A Wish and Fairy Dust

by Bennyhatter



Category: The Walking Dead RPF
Genre: Alpha Andrew, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Andrew is a fucking beast, Basicallly this is just filth, Body fluid kink, Claiming, Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk Kink, Dominant Andrew, Fuck Or Die, Gift!Fic, Knotting, Leedus filth, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Norman is a slutty needy bottom, Omega Norman, Omegas with animal characteristics, Real Person Slash - Freeform, Rickyl Writers' Group, Sex Pollen, Somewhat, Submissive Norman, begging kink, false heat, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-15 23:01:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7242337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bennyhatter/pseuds/Bennyhatter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Norman gets an unusual gift from a fan and takes it to Andrew to open it with him.</p><p>The results are... unexpected, to say the least. Though certainly not unwanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With A Wish and Fairy Dust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [butterflyfreefall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflyfreefall/gifts).



> MY FIRST EVER LEEDUS FIC YOU GUYS OH MY GOD.
> 
> I'm incapable of easing into anything, I guess. ._. But when it's a gift for someone, YOU GO ALL OUT.
> 
> GO BIG OR GO HOME.
> 
> I HOPE YOU LOVE YOUR FILTH, NUTTERBUTTER. HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY, DARLING. <3 <3 <3 <3

"You better be home, Andy!"

 

Norman bounds up the rickety trailer steps, too impatient to be careful about where he's putting his feet. He's brimming with excitement, a small wooden box cradled protectively in the crook of one arm. He's raising his other hand, fist curled and waiting, to knock on the door. Andy, the spoilsport, opens it before he can.

 

"Norman, it is too early in the morning for you to be this excited about anything," the British man chuckles good-naturedly. Norman grins mischievously, his oversized ears quivering and his tail wagging emphatically behind him as he looks his Alpha friend over from top to bottom. As reserved as the younger man always comes across as, it's still nice to see him relaxed enough to be shirtless and barefoot.

 

The contrasts between Andrew Lincoln and Rick Grimes are vast, but Norman loves each and every aspect of the Alpha who has come to mean so much to him. The omega makes friends wherever he goes, but at the end of the day it's nice to have someone by his side who understands him on a deeper level than just the eccentric, spazzy extrovert that constantly finds new ways to amuse and annoy the masses.

 

 

" _Fanmail_ , Andy," he replies, dismissing the early hour with a wave of his free hand. He's still grinning wide enough to show the points of his canines, still buzzing with excited energy, and he barely waits for the Alpha to shift aside before he's shouldering his way into the trailer that's become just as much of a home to him as his own. He ignores the couch in favor of Andy's bed; kicks off his shoes and crawls awkwardly onto the mattress because he still refuses to let his prize go. He hasn't opened it yet, had been too excited, and thankfully Andrew is more than used to his random bouts of excitement and hyperactivity.

 

"Well, come on then. Let's see it."

 

Andy watches with fond amusement as Norman burrows into his blankets and starts nosing and pushing at them. The end result is a misshapen nest, but the omega coos happily once he's curled up in the mess of pillows and one particularly thick, comfortable blanket he's threatened to steal more than once (and succeeded in taking at least twice). Once he's settled, Andrew joins him and leans back against the headboard, his legs already stretched out for Norman to flop over so the Alpha can stroke his ears and run his fingers through the omega’s tangled mess of hair with a disapproving tut.

 

"You didn't brush your hair again, did you. Norman, you do _know_ that Greg is going to kill you one of these days, right?"

 

"Yep," he laughs as he snuggles closer and makes himself even more comfortable. When he's situated, he sets the box on his chest and plays with the quick-release snaps that will open it and reveal the wonderful fan-made treasure waiting inside. He wonders what it could be. The box can't be more than four inches by four, and probably only three inches tall. He's had some pretty strange, amazing stuff sent to him before, and the prospect of something new makes his tail wag harder.

 

"Norman," Andrew sighs in exasperation when he just fidgets and plays with the box for a little while longer. It makes him smile, because he knows how much his friend enjoys seeing the hard work their fans frequently put into whatever gifts they send.

 

"C'mere then," he says playfully, and when Andrew obediently leans closer, the shadow cast by his body and the physical presence that brushes against Norman's nerves makes him fight back a shudder. He ignores the urge to bare his throat, something he's become quite adept at, and greedily draws in another wave of his best friend's musky, alluring scent.

 

Norman has fought against this crush since day one, badly. He's been lucky so far that Andrew has always returned every flicker and scrap of hopeful affection with plenty of his own. He jokes about Gael being concerned at how close they are, but they both know the truth - the beta is just as enamored with their bond as everyone else. More than once she's tugged on one of Norman's ears and joked about how cute he'd look carrying Andy's pup, and he'd laughed with her, but he'd _ached_ at the same time.

 

"Norman?"

 

Andrew's concerned voice snaps him from his musings, and he grins wide and bright when he tilts his head back to look up at the Alpha.

 

"Sorry, man, you know I daydream a lot. Just got lost for a minute."

 

Before his friend gets the chance to make another comment, Norman sits up quickly and pops the latches on the box before tilting the lid back as they both lean forward to peer inside curiously.

 

"... _Powder_?" Andrew mutters in confusion. Norman looks at it, blinking, and his nose twitches slightly when the sharp, herby scent wafts up from the open box. It must have been sealed really well, for him not to have smelled it before. He doesn't recognize the blend of whatever it might be - too many different factors playing with his senses as he tilts the little wooden box and watches the powder slide over itself as it's shifted.

 

"Maybe it's tea?" he hazards. "Seen some in stores before that wasn't in bags. Maybe they made us their own special recipe or something."

 

"Was there a letter with it?"

 

Norman shakes his head. "Nah, just this thing." He brings it up to his face curiously, unable to help himself, and before Andy can stop him, he sniffs it. The scent gets even harsher, tickling the inside of his nose, and he sneezes violently from the sharpness of it that’s undiluted by distance.

 

The pale grey powder flies up into his face, displaced by the force of his sneeze. Norman coughs as he inhales it into his open mouth, a dusting of it settling on his cheeks and in his beard - gumming in a bitter, grainy paste at the corners of his lips when his mouth fills with saliva.

 

"Are you alright?" Andrew is trying to wipe the powder off of his face, his fingers warm and gentle. When they brush against Norman's lower lip, a hot bolt of _need_ shoots down to his lower abdomen and he chokes on a whine before he can stop himself. He can feel his heat glands throbbing just below his armpits, a phantom pressure against the left one that makes him think of teeth pressing in and _biting_.

 

"Norman?"

 

Andy has powder on him too - dusted in his curls and brushed against his lower lip. There's a hint of it just beneath his nose, gathered on the cupid's bow of his upper lip, and Norman finds himself suddenly desperate to lick the Alpha in a way he never has before.

 

" _Andy_ ," he whimpers. His muscles are trembling, his ears flat against his hair and quivering as his tail tucks tightly against his leg. He feels himself warming up, feels the flush crawling across his cheeks and prickling down his throat. He digs his claws into the blankets of the nest and whimpers again, his spine bowing slightly and drawing his shoulders back.

 

"Norman," Andrew says again, his name a low rumble that sounds like _sin_ on the British man's tongue. Norman is panting, his clothes scraping painfully against his oversensitive skin. He feels the familiar ache between his legs, tucked behind his balls - the open, empty throb and the leak of slick. His pupils blow out, his pale eyes wide with confusion and hot with desire when he turns to see the way Andrew's eyes are glowing silver. He watches the Alpha's canines grow in thick and dangerous, but he's not afraid. He's _turned_ _on_ , because seeing his calm, cultured friend like this _does_ _things_ to Norman.

 

It's like Daryl watching Rick rip Joe's throat out, the Alpha's eyes blazing and his fangs gleaming in the moonlight. That scene had fucked with Norman, because he's always been a little wild and untamed, and he expresses it best through Daryl.  That night, in the early hours of dawn, he'd had to excuse himself as soon as the scene was done. Daryl's mindset had made his skin buzz and his glands ache, their need for their respective Alphas driving Norman to seek release in the safety of his locked trailer with the blankets shoved into his mouth to muffle his sounds.

 

There's no hiding now, though, no escaping from the growing ache in his belly when he looks at Andrew and feels his own natural lubrication drip heavily between his cheeks.

 

" _Alpha_ ," he moans, and he's treated to the sight of Andrew's lips curling back as the man inhales several deep lungfuls of his pheromones.

 

"Omega," Andrew rumbles, his voice deep and _primal_. His eyes flash. " _Mine_."

 

Norman has no chance to say anything else, because he's already on his back in the nest before he can even reach for Andrew. The Alpha shoves his nose up under his throat, snuffling and making deep, delighted purring sounds while Norman tips his head back and writhes beneath his friend.

 

" _Fuck_ , c'mon, please," he whines. Unlike Daryl, he has never been ashamed of begging for what he wants, and with his inhibitions stripping themselves from his bones faster than they ever have before, he's not inclined to start being demure now. His entire body is on fire, the familiar symptoms of heat washing over him like water that's a few degrees too hot. He's raw and empty, his legs spreading eagerly for Andrew to settle between them, and the Alpha makes another pleased rumbling noise before his hot, burning tongue paints a line across the front of Norman's throat.

 

"Oh _fuck_!"

 

One of his arms loops around Andrew's shoulders, dragging the man down to press them closer while he bucks and arches with a strangled moan. He's had plenty of sex in his life, but he's never let anyone near him while he was in heat - never even let any of them bite at his sensitive glands to entice a false heat for some fun.

 

Norman's other hand fists the blankets beside his head, snagging a few strands of his hair that pull painfully when he thrashes his head from side to side.

 

"Please, fuck, _oh_ , come on," he gasps. Andrew licks his throat again; scrapes his canines against the side of the omega's bobbing Adam’s apple until Norman is keening and drooling from the overabundance of saliva pooling in his open, panting mouth.

 

When Andrew leaves a trail of nips up to his trembling lips, he doesn't know how much more he can take. The bitterness of the powder is coating the inside of his mouth, smearing tacky over his lips, and they share the taste between them when Andrew grips his chin to hold him still and kisses him in a way no one else has ever come close to.

 

There's lust and dark, instinct-driven possessiveness, but there's also a love that is pure and wholly _Andrew_. Norman writhes and sucks desperately on the Alpha's tongue as it marks every inch of his mouth, his knees bracketing the younger man's hips and trying to coax him impossibly closer as their bodies roll together.

 

Norman can't take it anymore. He's soaking through his boxers and his jeans _already_ , the pseudo heat leaving him shaking and feeling so empty it actually hurts like a real heat. He has to rip his mouth away, already missing it. His mouth throbs, his abdomen clenches, and he whines in distress as he tries to claw his way out of his clothes with no room to actually do so.

 

"Stop."

 

The command is low and powerful, rolling over him with force like waves crashing against the shore. Norman freezes, trembling faintly. His tail presses up between his spread, shaking thighs, the drag of it against his clothed, clenching entrance making his mouth fall open a little farther as a hot shiver ripples through him and his head slams back against the mattress.

 

" _Fuck_ _me_!"

 

"In time," his friend chuckles, nosing at the hinge of his jaw and breathing in deeply like he's incapable of stopping himself. Norman completely understands the feeling, because he's almost certain that if he doesn't get his pants off and Andrew's cock up his ass in the next _minute_ , the fever overtaking him will surely burn him alive.

 

"No, no, don't fucking make me _wait_ , Andy," he sobs in frustration. He ignores the fact he's supposed to be still and obedient - Andrew knows him well enough to know he has no restraint. If the Alpha really wanted him still, he would have used his Alpha Voice, and he hadn't.

 

"So eager, lover boy," Andrew croons. Norman keens and bites unhappily at the man's shoulder - gets distracted by the taste of his sweat-sheened skin and licks a sloppy trail to one prominent collarbone. He bites down and sucks, saliva dripping and leaving shiny trails that make the omega coo. He listens to his friend's deep groan and nuzzles against the blooming purplish mark he's already left before latching on again to make a fucking _collar_ of them.

 

 _Mine_ , he thinks through the haze of lust and love and _need_ overwhelming his thoughts and blanketing everything in a wonderful shroud of take-me- _now_ desire.

 

Hot, broad hands shove him back against the bed, his teeth scraping across Andrew's skin roughly when he resists being made to let go. The younger actor snarls and presses a hand to the center of Norman's chest, his eyes dark silver and compelling as his claws dig in slightly.

 

"Such a filthy thing," he rumbles. Norman moans and slams a fist against the mattress. They shouldn't be _talking_ ; Andy should be _fucking_ him. When those fingers start to strip him of his confining clothes, Norman almost cries he's so relieved. He rushes to help, yanking his shirt over his head and leaving it bunched with the pillows when he immediately twists his own nipples hard enough to make him arch off the bed with a guttural moan.

 

"Yes, yes, fuck, _yes_ , c'mon Andy, _fuck_ _me_ ," he chants. He feels the long fingers ripping his jeans open and arches his hips when they're dragged down along with his boxers. There's a moment where the snap in the back pulls against the base of his tail, and he's quick to reach back and fumble until it pops open and his jeans slide down freely. Andrew has to move from the home he's made between Norman's thighs to get them the rest of the way off, and once they're gone he wastes no time in rolling over onto his belly and raising his hips as high as he can get them.

 

In the furthest recesses of his mind, Norman knows that the powder has something to do with this. He and Andy are overly affectionate with one another, but they've never gone from relaxing together to this frantic, instinct-driven scramble to be so close they're seared into each other's atoms. He's looked at the Alpha plenty of times and _wanted_ , but he never tried to kid himself into honestly believing he would ever _get_.

 

Now that they're here, like this, he's as desperate for it to last as he is for it to get started, and he yells incoherently into the bedspread when he feels Andrew's thighs against the backs of his, his friend's knees coaxing his to spread wider while Andrew's chest slides against his back and accentuates the curve of his spine when he arches to get as close as possible.

 

"What do you want, Norman?" the Alpha rumbles against the sweat-damp strands of hair clinging to his nape. Norman shivers and whines, digging his claws into the sheets and gripping them so hard his fingers cramp. It's a dull pain compared to the sharp aches in his abdomen, the need ripping him apart until he feels like he'll bleed out and be unmade if Andy doesn't do something _now_.

 

" _Fuck_ me, Andy, give me your fucking _cock_ ," he begs on a whimper, turning his face to the side to press one burning cheek to the bed and look at the man posed above him from the corner of his eye. Andrew looks powerful and wild, his dark curls a wild nest of tangles and his fangs heavy and thick. From this angle, Norman can't see his cock - can't even figure out when the hell he took his pants off - but it doesn't matter, so long as he gets it _in_ him.

 

"That's not how you ask." Andrew tuts and tilts his head to the side, his marbled silver eyes fixed on the furl of muscle between Norman's ass cheeks. He knows it must look obscene, clenching needily and dripping with more slick than he's ever produced. It's rolling down between his thighs and puddling on the bed beneath him; mixing with the pre-cum drooling from the tip of his cock in a steady stream.

 

The casual dominance, the possessive rumble and the glimmer of promise, all roll together over Norman's sweaty skin and sink deep into his marrow. He keens and bucks his hips back, feeling the fat head of his friend's cock smear a musky line across the swell of one cheek. He sobs for breath, sobs because he _can't_ _take_ _it_ any longer, and the words fall from him so fast and rough that he sounds like Daryl; low drawl and frantic slur bleeding together until it's a wonder he can form words at all.

 

"Please, _please_ , fuck me. Fuck me _now_ , Andy, I'll fucking _die_ if I don't get your cock in me. Fuck, I want it so bad, please. I _need_ it, I've never needed anything so fucking _badly_."

 

"Good boy," the Alpha croons against his skin, and Norman moans loudly and without shame at the praise. His muscles clench, his tail curls up and to the side to offer his hole more readily, and he grinds his forehead against the mattress as he comes without Andrew even touching his dick or pushing inside where he's burning and needs him most.

 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ," the omega sobs repeatedly, his voice getting softer and breathy until he's just mouthing the curse, his ability to speak fleeing along with his sanity. He has _never_ come untouched before; never come without some kind of stimulation. Hell, he just came from a few _words._ Two words of praise spoken in a rolling, rich British accent and growling with the promise of more pleasure than Norman honestly might know what to do with.

 

"Such a good omega. _My_ omega."

 

Andrew mounts him while Norman is still bucking through his orgasm, strings and droplets of white painting the pillow beneath him. He _screams_ when he feels the Alpha slide in as easily as if he's been fingerings himself for _hours_ , the slight swell of his knot pressing and catching against Norman's loosened rim before slipping inside. Andy's cock is long and _thick_ , stretching him more than he's ever felt from any other Alpha or beta, and he's gasping raggedly and choking on his own wispy breaths as he tries to roll his hips back weakly and sink that fucking _perfect_ cock inside him just a little further.

 

"More, Alpha, give me _more_ ," he moans. He hears Andrew's deep, bass rumble just as easily as he feels it vibrate against his spasming skin, and Norman is completely blindsided by his second orgasm. He hadn't even felt it building, only felt the pleasure burning through him in waves that are continuously cresting higher and higher, growing wild from a force that is beyond control. The air crackles around them like they're surrounded by phantom flames, and he can still taste the bitterness of the powder on his tongue.

 

He's a bitch in heat, his mouth gaping open and his eyes hooded and unfocused. He's clawing at the blankets, ripping gashes into them, and every slam of Andrew's hips against his ass pushes the Alpha's cock just that little bit deeper; rocks Norman forward and makes his own cock grind against the pillow until he's coming all over it again with a howl.

 

It should be impossible to come so much in so little time, but he knows all too well the instinctive drive to mate when he's in heat, and this is the closest he's ever come to that without actually being there. He's done his fair share of laundry to wash sheets so saturated with cum it was amazing they could even be saved. Here, on Andy's bed, with the Alpha deep inside of him and finding his prostate after half a dozen sloppy thrusts, he wonders dazedly if he can convince his friend to never wash these sheets again. He loves having his senses overwhelmed and the scent of the Alpha thick in his nose, his own smoky musk bleeding into it and combining into a flavor he will never not be addicted to.

 

One particularly brutal thrust jolts him forward and makes him yelp, the pleasure and pain sizzling into something that makes his eyes roll back and his cock throb. His knuckles bump against something hard, and he struggles to get his vision clear enough to see what it is.

 

It's the box, tipped over onto its side and spilling powder across the bed. Whimpering, the omega wiggles forward until he can rub his cheek into it, feeling the way it sticks like gritty dirt to his cheek and mats in his beard. He licks at it weakly, his tongue barely curling past his swollen lips, and each slow roll of his tongue smears the substance across his tastebuds until it sticks to his teeth.

 

"All of it," Andrew growls into one of his quivering ears. Norman coos sweetly, a submissive little sound, and his elbows are getting scraped and burned with every roll of Andrew's hips, every shuddering slide forward until Norman doesn't have to strain to reach a speck of powder. He sucks it from the blankets, the crippling waves of pleasure blinding him as he comes again, and then again, and _again_ until he completely loses track and nothing else matters but the drag and grind of his Alpha's cock and the hot hands leaving possessive marks along his hips and sides.

 

"Harder," he croaks plaintively, "please, Alpha, gimme your knot. Want it. Wanna be fucking _filled_."

 

"I know you do, omega," his friend purrs. He sounds guttural, his voice scraped raw and deepened like thunder. It echoes through Norman, making him shiver like a sapling trying to withstand the force of a nature it has no hope to compete against. "You want to be knotted and bred, don't you? Such a good boy for me, Norman, begging so prettily. Can you beg me for a little more, darling? I'll give you anything you'd desire, so long as you ask first."

 

"Say," the omega whimpers, trying to string together more than a few garbled words. He shudders through another orgasm, wondering how the fuck he even has anything _left_ by now, and he enjoys how much more intense his climax feels with Andrew fucking him through it relentlessly - his own gorgeous force of nature, unstoppable at anything he puts his mind and determination to. "Say, please, wanna hear it..."

 

"Hear what?" The Alpha's lips are pressed to the soft inner tuft of his ear, breathing hotly against the thin, fragile skin beneath the dark fur. Norman nods even though it wasn't that kind of question, choking on the breath that stutters from his lungs and tipping his head to offer more of himself to anything Andrew might want. Chances are very good that _anything_ Andy wants, Norman fucking wants it just as badly.

 

"You want me to tell you how hot and tight you are inside? How wet you are? You hear it, don't you?"

 

He does, he can hear every wet grind and filthy slide, his shoulders trembling and his nipples catching against the bunched-up sheets, so hypersensitive that his toes curl and his hips jerk with every pulse of pleasure.

 

" _Mmmmmnnnn_ ," he whimpers, and the Alpha bites the edge of his ear hard enough for him to flinch before pressing closer for more. He's never minded a bit of pain with his pleasure - he has the flogger for a reason, and _oh_ , doesn't that create some pretty fantasies.

 

"Did you want me to tell you how gorgeous you sound begging for my cock, darling? How much I love seeing you like this? How long I've waited to sink my knot into you and watch you writhe on it?"

 

" _Jesus fucking Christ, Andy_ ," Norman moans. His heat glands are throbbing in time with his pulse, a fast, frantic thump and ache that makes him feel a little closer to the edge with each passing breath. He's panting desperately, whimpering and writhing just like Andrew has said, and he feels the knot fucking into his loosened, _sloppy_ hole starting to swell. It's a victory and a loss in one, because he never wants this to end but he doesn't know how much more he can endure.

 

"I think you've got one more in you yet, pet, don't you?" His Alpha licks his ear, teething at it gently before wrapping his lips around the furry tip and sucking. No one has ever done that before, and his ears are _sensitive_ , and it's too much. Norman can't take it any more, he is not equipped to deal with this, not when it's Andy, and his friend must sense how close to overwhelmed he is.

 

Fingers drag along his side, dancing along his heaving pecs, and he feels the body behind him start to pull away. Before he can voice his protest, he feels those clever, wicked fingers circle a nipple and _squeeze_. At the same time, unrelenting fingers press against the heat gland under his left arm and pinch forcefully, releasing another spike of hormones into his bloodstream.

 

Andrew's cock slams into him one last time, the thick head grinding against his prostate, and Norman _screams_ through an orgasm that feels like it's being ripped directly out of his DNA. It's too much, he can't take this, and he blacks out to the feeling of his Alpha's knot growing until they're locked together as Andy _finally_ starts to come with a triumphant howl.

 

 

 

When he rouses himself an unknown amount of time later, Norman whimpers and winces at the raw rasp of the sound scraping from his abused throat.

 

"Here, love."

 

The cool rim of a glass presses against his lower lip, a strong, gentle hand keeping both him and the cup steady. He moans at the trickle of cool, refreshing water across his swollen tongue and tries to drink the offering as fast as he can.

 

Andrew rumbles quietly. "None of that. _Slowly_ , Norman. Don't make yourself sick."

 

There is no room for argument in that tone, so the omega slows down obediently and lets Andrew determine how much water he gets, and how soon he gets it. Despite being an omega, Norman has always taken care of himself.  He always balked at the thought of being tied to anyone who would try to rule every aspect of his life just because of his biology. It's part of the reason he fell for Andrew so fast and so hard.

 

Once the water is gone, he drops his head back onto the (clean) pillow that had been tucked under it at some point during his unconsciousness. "How long was I out?" he mumbles, looking up at Andrew blearily. His eyes feel too dry and hot, but the frantic need is almost completely gone now, and he feels a lot better now that there isn't a fire threatening to burn him away to nothing.

 

"About two hours." Andrew sits on the edge of the bed beside him, his fingers gentle when they comb through the omega's hair and stroke his ears. He sighs happily and nuzzles into the contact, his tail wagging under the blanket. "Do you feel better?"

 

"Define _better_ ," Norman snorts. The clawing need is gone, everything bled back down to levels he's more than capable of handling, but with the endorphins dampened he can feel every ache and bruise - the open, sore gape of his hole and the mixture of slick and cum still leaking steadily out onto his ass and thighs.

 

"The effects of the powder have worn off, at least," his friend chuckles. Norman purrs and butts his head against the Alpha's hand, asking for more pets that are given without hesitation. He basks in it, loose-limbed and well-fucked in a way he hasn't felt in a long time. Eventually, when he knows they can't ignore it any more, he cracks open one eye and looks at Andrew.

 

"Regrets?" he questions seriously. Andrew means the fucking world to him, their friendship one he cherishes in the way all lovesick fools do. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if this destroys everything.

 

"Only that we weren't able to do things properly," Andrew admits. Norman's ears twitch, his eyes flying open and his hopefulness spilling into his scent unrestrained.

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Yeah," his Alpha hums. His voice is that strange blend between his English accent and Rick's rolling Southern drawl, his eyes crinkling at the corners the way Norman has loved since the first time he saw the younger man truly smile. "How long?"

 

"You shittin' me? Day fucking one, man. You and your goddamn _everything_." Norman sits up slowly, trying to go easy so as not to make any particular ache flare worse. Sitting on his ass is a little uncomfortable, so he's trying to roll more onto his hip when he finds himself being pulled onto Andrew's lap. He sits facing the Alpha - _his_ Alpha - and grins when he meets eyes just a few shades darker than his that are filled with all the things he's always hoped to see there.

 

"At least we know Gael won't mind," he adds, and he's pleased when his friend nods in agreement.

 

"At least I know you're not going to run screaming," Andrew murmurs. Norman laughs at the absurdity of that statement, because there's no way he's _ever_ leaving, not now.

 

"Fuckin' _powder_ ," the omega scoffs, but when he leans in to kiss his Alpha, his lover, his _everything_ , he's wondering if he'll be able to track down whoever sent the box and fucking _worship_ them for helping him to have this.

 

He'll figure it out later.


End file.
